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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25908403">Jon Jblinked</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse of slang, Belinda Blinked fusion, Canon-typical nothing else, Canon-typical season 1 Jon disliking Martin, Crack, HR nightmare, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:14:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,692</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25908403</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Thrill as our intrepid Archivist explores the halls of power with his body, backed by the erotic assistance of his scrumptious assistants, Tim and Martin.</p><p>Will he bring the esoteric world to its knees before his own get sore?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Elias Bouchard/Tim Stoker, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Job Interview</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jon blinked.</p><p>It wasn't a dream. The interviewer had just asked him to remove his tweed jacket and oxford shirt. Jon looked at the PA who'd brought him through from reception. She smiled and nodded encouragingly at him.</p><p>Jon handed her his jacket and shirt, then dropped his braces from his shoulders and began to loosen his tie with a bit of a tease. He locked eyes with the interviewer, one Elias Bouchard, the head of the Magnus Institute, while he removed the garments.</p><p>The PA, Rosie, hung Jon's jacket and shirt neatly on one of the two beautiful antique coatracks to either side of the office door, before returning to stand at Elias's elbow. The cool air of the office, tuned to an archival driness and lightly scented with Mr. Bouchard's expensive cologne, teased Jon's breathtaking teats to attention.</p><p>Elias began to discuss Jon's CV and the ins and outs of the position Jon was interviewing for.</p><p>After ten minutes, Elias changed the subject. "Stand and continue undressing, Jon. Rosie is a doctor of medicine in addition to serving as my personal assistant. She will assess your fitness for the role."</p><p>The whole interview was turning into a bit of a rum do, but Jon prided himself on being ready for anything. He had taken care to wear his snuggest thong that day, and knew his assets would be displayed to their best advantage.</p><p>"I understand completely," Jon said. He let his fingers drop to the waist of his dove grey wool trousers, watching Elias's eyes follow his hands, before whipping them right off into a corner.</p><p>Elias looked assessingly at Jon's garters, holding up sexy ivory silk socks. Jon looked back, one eyebrow raised. Jon knew he was an upmarket gentleman and would not apologize for that fact.</p><p>Jon kicked off his shoes into another corner, then bent and slowly peeled off his socks. Rosie circled him, peering at his body and making notes on her clipboard.</p><p>Then he stood and shimmied his thong to the ground, kicking it into the fourth corner. Jon hoped Elias appreciated his tidy landing strip, guiding any viewer to the top of his penis. He turned a slow circle, to let Elias see not only his hardening cock, but the proud, taut lobes of his perfect ass. They talked some more about Jon's CV as he turned. He came to face Elias again.</p><p><em>Oh bother,</em> Jon thought. <em>He doesn't look convinced yet.</em></p><p>Rosie cleared her throat. "Please spread your legs, dear, so we can get a look at your internal attributes."</p><p>Jon blinked, but obeyed.</p><p>Rosie slid to the ground and looked up between Jon's legs, taking copious notes on her clipboard.</p><p>Jon noticed Elias watching and traced his fingers down his shaft to further excite himself. His prepucial aperture opened, showing his penile pinkness to the room. A runnel of liquid trickled down his shaft towards his balls.</p><p>"Very good, Jon," Elias said, letting him know he'd clinched it. Rosie got up and went round his desk and they conferred briefly over the clipboard.</p><p>"So when are you people going to fuck me?" Jon inquired.</p><p>"Well, Rosie never will because it's not her area of responsibility," Elias explained. "I may, depending on how hard you work for me. But let's get to the point."</p><p>He dismissed Rosie. "Rosie, send in Tim with the contracts."</p><p>A stunningly attractive young man of twenty-eight appeared at the door, carrying a sheaf of papers and his prick ahead of him.</p><p>"Put down those papers, Tim, and meet our new Head Archivist," Elias instructed.</p><p>"What's up, boss? Looks like I can call you boss after all," Tim said with a friendly wink, extending his hand to the stark-naked Jon.</p><p>Jon shook Tim's hand with a tight grin, resolved to keep an eye on him. Tim was a magnificent creature: his nipples were hard and pink through his work shirt, and his ass was high and tight enough to make even Jon felt tested, though he was equal in every respect and in all truth, thought he had the better shaped thighs.</p><p>Jon sat back in the leather chair, crossing his shapely legs, Tim sliding into the neighboring one.</p><p>"Thank you, Tim," Elias said, leaning toward Jon with the contracts and a rich bubinga pen. "You'll see the terms of the promotion are very generous."</p><p>"Twenty thousand pounds per annum, use of the company car, and a generous travel allowance," Jon noted, pleased. "Yes, this is perfectly in line with my expectations."</p><p>Elias smiled. "Additionally, you'll be given three assistants; Tim here-" Tim saluted, "Sasha, and Martin."</p><p>Martin sounded a bit shit, Jon thought. "Lovely." He said aloud, signing his name to the contracts. "If you're ready to turn me loose, Tim and I will tackle all the archiving forthwith."</p><p>"Just call you Johnny-on-the-spot," Elias said approvingly, eyes twinkling at the joke. "Keep that enterprising spirit, Jon. It will serve you well at all the fancy Avatar parties where you'll be representing the Institute."</p><p><em>Ah,</em> Jon thought astutely,<em> so that's where I'll be plying my sexual skills.</em></p><p>"I'll endeavor to be a credit to the Institute."</p><p>Jon stood up to leave, and Tim stopped him with a hand trailing down his chest. "I'm sure it'll be a pleasure working under you."</p><p>Tim slid his arm around Jon's waist and deftly snaked his tongue inside Jon's mouth. Soon he had Jon gasping. The two boys writhed and petted each other until they were well het up, their hardened pricks beating with erotic capacity.</p><p>Not bad for a final interview for the job of his dreams!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Leather Room</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Three weeks later, Jon was settling into his new role, though the previous Archivist had left the archives in such disarray, his team had their work cut out for them.</p>
<p>It was a dismal, wet Thursday, and Jon and his new team were hard at work archiving. The clock had just chimed three when Jon's phone rang. It was Rosie, summoning him to Elias's office.</p>
<p>"Good afternoon, Jon," Elias greeted him. "There's a very senior event this Sunday at our founder's country house. Barbecue and all that."</p>
<p>"Jonah Magnus? I thought he was dead."</p>
<p>"Never you mind about that. Casual dress code. Wear tennis gear. No--and I'll repeat--<em>no</em> undergarments."</p>
<p>Jon blinked.</p>
<p>"You'll understand when you get there."</p>
<p>"I see. I'll listen to my weekly LP and rearrange my sock drawer on Saturday instead."</p>
<p>Elias gave Jon a winning smile. "Alright then. Rosie will book you a room at the local hotel, The Horse and Jockey."</p>
<p>Jon nodded. Though he'd miss his precious archive and his treasured Sunday decompression time, he had an inkling he was in for a weekend of monster sex, which was more or less pretty much to his liking.</p>
<p>"Good. Go through to my leather room and wait while I go get Tim."</p>
<p>Elias stopped by what Jon had assumed was an ordinary cupboard and unhitched a hidden latch, letting it swing open. He hit the switch to turn on the delicate lighting inside for Jon, then left through the office door.</p>
<p><em>Good lord!</em> thought Jon, as he looked at the expensive leather tiles that seamlessly covered floor, walls, and ceiling. <em>Wonder what he gets up to in here?</em></p>
<p>The drinks cabinet, exquisite, made of highly polished priceless dalbergia, was probably even more expensive. The research business must be booming.</p>
<p>While Jon waited, he pondered Elias and Tim's relationship. Tim was clearly Elias's preferred taste in men; tall and built, with nipples to die for and a prick that wouldn't quit. He'd proven himself a competent assistant in the three weeks he'd spent under Jon, on top of his good record in Research, to a degree that it made Jon wonder why he hadn't interviewed for Head Archivist. Even if Tim didn't present himself as a climber, he was clearly one to watch.</p>
<p>"Hey boss," Tim said as he entered. "What do you think of Elias's fucking leather room?"</p>
<p>"It's quite swish, except for the skeleton." Jon gestured to the shriveled brown skeleton suspended from its wrists by rusty manacles.</p>
<p>"Yeah, that'd probably be old Barnabas Bennett. We've got a letter from him in the archives."</p>
<p>Tim was mixing two G&amp;Ts at the cabinet, his comfort in the secret room underlining his closeness to Elias.</p>
<p>"I do think mirrors would be more befitting Beholding," Jon mused, taking his drink from Tim's hand, "but I imagine they're more difficult to clean."</p>
<p>"Take a look." Tim gestured to a high corner where Jon could see a small camera, red light blinking. "There's your eye right there."</p>
<p>"What do you say we give it a show?" Jon proposed. He took a drink of his G&amp;T and started pillaging Tim's deliciously plush mouth with alacrity.</p>
<p>Tim's hands deftly untied Jon's tie and unbuttoned his buttons, pushing his shirt down around his shoulders to expose his sublime chest, nipples swelling with anticipation.</p>
<p>Jon's mouth gasped as Tim tormented the throbbing buds with his lips and teeth. Tim began to remove Jon's trousers with all professional efficiency. It was only a matter of time before Jon's proud cock was revealed to the room.</p>
<p><em>Well,</em> Jon thought, impressed, <em>he certainly knows what he's about!</em></p>
<p>Not to be outdone, Jon whipped off Tim's silky shirt and threw it atop the drinks cabinet. Then he ripped off Tim's tight serge trousers and threw them atop the drinks cabinet. Then Jon pulled Tim's thong to the ground, letting loose his mouthwatering cock, which was without parallel even if Jon's was the slightly more perfect between them.</p>
<p>"Oh Jon, you're not half sexy," Tim groaned, fisting his hands in Jon's distinguished silver-streaked hair. Jon looked forward to Tim fisting his hands in other parts of Jon, namely his ass. His prick was all but bursting with anticipation and his balls taut with cum and he, together with Tim, was well and truly gagging for it.</p>
<p>"You neither," Jon panted. "You...as well? Hell, you know what I mean!"</p>
<p>"Why don't we lie down on the ground and enjoy all this leather?" Tim proposed.</p>
<p>They writhed around on the ground for a while, G&amp;Ts forgotten. Now that the boys were down to just their socks and shoes and both their engines were revving,  they were ready for some "executive oversight." On cue, Elias reappeared.</p>
<p>"Ah! More of that initiative I so admire," he said mischievously, trailing his fingers lightly over Jon's body. "Why don't you spread those gorgeous thighs, Tim, and let me open up your third eye."</p>
<p>Elias enthusiastically pleasured Tim's bum while Tim took it in turn to slurp at Jon's cock with his talented mouth, while Jon--well, Jon couldn't think of a better way to spend a wet Thursday! All this went on for nigh on ten minutes before Jon made his excuses. He gathered his scattered garments and went out into Elias's office, letting the secret door swing shut behind him.</p>
<p>Elias and Tim opted to stay on for another session; one Jon was sure he would be hearing about from Tim over Friday lunch. He was just getting redressed for work when Martin poked his head in the door.</p>
<p>"Oh hullo, Jon. Having a cheeky nude frolic around the offices? Right on. You've been working so hard these past weeks."</p>
<p>"Martin!" Jon sputtered. "What are you doing here? Fucking off again?"</p>
<p>"Oh just statements, you know," Martin replied. "Here,  let me help you with your thong. I know how important it is to achieve a straight line. Look!"</p>
<p>He whirled and dropped trou to reveal two generous, beautifully freckled buttocks divided by a thong even skimpier than Jon's own. Jon was loathe to admit it, but Martin's technique in this area was above reproach.</p>
<p>"If only your citations were as tidy," he said drily.</p>
<p>"Oh pish tosh, you old fussbudget. There, that's you right." He straightened Jon's thong and gave Jon's ass a resolving tap.</p>
<p>Jon was conflicted. He was grateful for Martin's help, but felt flushed and somewhat patronized. Also indignant about being called "old." Jon was also very conscious of Elias and Tim secretly fucking in the hidden room behind him, and that the two could emerge at any moment.</p>
<p>Under the circumstances, Jon could only fall to his knees and take Martin's thick prick between his lips, unleashing his special technique.</p>
<p>"O-oh! Oh wow, Jon! That's ever so nice!" Martin's legs started trembling and he staggered back against Elias's desk. Jon didn't let up for a second, lashing his tongue all around Martin's plumped, veiny cock like a fleshy cyclone.</p>
<p>"Ooh! Ha! My word, Jon!"</p>
<p>Martin's fat prick filled his throat completely, but Jon was no country fair fellatallist. He practiced the classical cocksucking techniques he'd formulated poring over Catullus and Elephantis and perfected in his tutorials, for which Martin's robust but ignorant dick was no match. Soon Jon could feel Martin's penis popping against the roof of his mouth and knew he couldn't hold out much longer.</p>
<p>"Pho-WAH! Oh Jesus. Oh baby Jeeeeeee-"</p>
<p>Martin busted both bollocks down Jon's supple throat and collapsed onto Elias's desk. Statements sprayed everywhere.</p>
<p>Jon swallowed Martin's hearty north country cream and stood up, wiping his mouth on his forearm. He coughed delicately. "Right, Martin. Let's get back to work, shall we?"</p>
<p>"R-right."</p>
<p>Jon smiled to himself as the two redressed and descended to the basement. He had successfully protected his boss's privacy, asserted his professional qualifications, and capped the afternoon off with a tasty treat. He'd be well justified in calling it a day, but a Head Archivist's work was never done.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. There is No Chapter Three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jon and his glee team spent Friday in diligent archival activities. Jon's Saturday was taken up by preparations for the next day's fancy barbecue and listening to his weekly record.</p><p>Sunday dawned bright and lovely. Jon cranked down the windows of the company car as he sped toward Windsor. The classic Vauxhall Nova ran like a dream and had ample backseat space for all his sex outfits and peripherals. He was ready for anything.</p><p>True to Elias's instructions, Jon checked into The Horse and Jockey and removed his inner clothing before proceeding on to Jonah Magnus's grand country estate.</p><p>He found Elias's car and parked next to him on the lawn. Jon took a moment to run a lint roller over his crisp white tennis gear, put on some chapstick, then hopped from his car into Elias's passenger seat.</p><p>"Good morning, Jon," Elias said, raising Jon's sweater to study his bubbies. "You're certainly bright eyed and bushy-tailed."</p><p>"I was up half the night studying our prospects for today, but it's nothing I'm not accustomed to."</p><p>Elias snagged Jon's waistband with his pen and leaned towards him to inspect his bared cock. "Ah, I see you've followed my instructions to the letter. Well done. Now, let's go over the guest list one more time and discuss our targets. Then we'll get lunch and take up our positions."</p><p>As they paraded to luncheon, Jon's mobile rang, and he ducked behind a convenient topiary to take it. It was Sasha, back at the Institute.</p><p>"Sasha, what is it?"</p><p>"You told me to call in an emergency."</p><p>"Yes?"</p><p>"Melanie King returned this morning, and she insisted on accessing our library."</p><p>"Sasha," Jon said drily, "to my mind, Melanie King's petty demands do not constitute an emergency."</p><p>"It's not that, Jon; she was sweet as pie once I ate her pussy. I was only providing context for the issue."</p><p>"Go on."</p><p>Jon could see Elias plating up over at the buffet table. He thought longingly of sandwiches.</p><p>"Well, I'd flipped Ms. King around and was fingerfucking her against the wall in your office, when we both fell through some weak plaster into a network of secret tunnels."</p><p>That was a good deal more interesting. "Huh! Secret tunnels, you say? Are you alright?"</p><p>"We're fine. We've decided to explore."</p><p>"I commend your initiative. Please keep me abreast of the situation as it develops."</p><p>Jon proceeded on to the buffet table. As he made his plate, he took the chance to look over the assembled crowd. A pick and mix of circus folk, peers of the realm, and Vertigo comics-style edgy superheroes greeted his eye. He spotted Martin and Tim, conspicuous in their tennis gear, doing their best to charm the crowd. Jon wondered what fate had in store for all of them that afternoon.</p><p>Jon reconvened with Elias and informed him of the developing situation in the archives over lunch and a couple strong gin and tonics. Elias listened with mild interest, before changing the subject to the other guests. It seemed Jonah Magnus had invited every big dick in the esoteric world, and Elias had the deep shit on all of them.</p><p>Forty minutes later, Elias was leading Jon into a medium hedge maze. Jon was glad someone knew the way through the myriad of twisting passages. It took Elias only three minutes to bring Jon through to the lovely glade Jon assumed was at the center of the maze.</p><p>Elias pushed Jon back against a trellis, gave him a sweet peck on the lips, and slapped a pair of handcuffs on him while he was distracted. </p><p>Jon gave an incredulous laugh. "Elias! What on earth is going on?"</p><p>"Muhnuh muhnuh," Elias twittered back with a smirk, tying a piece of parcel string to Jon's cuffs, "I'll be back to let you free in less than two hours."</p><p>"Really, Elias, what is the meaning of this...this <em>silliness?</em>"</p><p>Jon rattled the cuffs against the crosspiece of the trellis experimentally. The trellis seemed fairly flimsy and lightweight. Not that he was interested in breaking away; he was becoming more and more intrigued by Elias's scenario by the second.</p><p>"As I've said before, Jon, we take good care of our donors at the Magnus Institute. It keeps the charitable contributions and research contracts rolling in."</p><p>"So, I'm to be the donation box?" Jon squirmed in his shorts, suddenly eager to get stuffed. Who would it be first?</p><p>Elias backed out of the glade, letting the parcel string play out between his fingers. "Keep your chin up, love," he advised, "and let your peeper and your pooper do the talking."</p><p>He vanished back into the maze, leaving Jon to ponder this wisdom.</p><p>Jon waited. A nearby sprinkler was soaking his shoes at the end of every sweep. The ground beneath him was quickly turning into a disgusting mucky mire as he shuffled around trying to avoid the spray.</p><p>Jon was ready to try shifting the trellis enough to reach his foot out to kick the sprinkler away from him, when he noticed the first patron had silently appeared at the opening of the glade.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>CLIFFHANGER!</p><p>Thank you so much, everyone who has read and commented!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Maxwell Rayner, the First Patron</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jon recognized the figure standing at the entrance to the glade immediately, even if none of his research had shown the man as he was now, nude but for a black thong and a silver charm around his neck.</p><p>"Mr. Rayner, I presume?"</p><p>The man needed no introduction, with those milky eyes. Which was great, because he didn't introduce himself. He only did a silent pervert-glide over to Jon.</p><p>"...or is it Father Rayner?"</p><p>Jon remembered the dossier Elias had prepared. Maxwell Rayner had been defrocked by the Pentecostal church, but had refrocked himself just as quickly as the head of his own personal cult.</p><p>Rayner gave no reply. He knelt and unlaced Jon's right tennis shoe. He turned and placed it behind himself, well out of the sprinkler spray, Jon was glad to see. Then he removed one of Jon's immaculate white bobby socks, rolled it up like a cinnamon roll, and placed it inside the shoe. He repeated the process upon Jon's left foot, rolling the second sock just as neatly as the first.</p><p>"Ah. KonMarie? Very nice. Our mutual friend Elias insisted I read the book."</p><p>Continued silence. Rayner moved on to unbuttoning Jon's shorts. He removed them carefully, not allowing his fingers to touch Jon's skin or the shorts to touch the sickening filthy mire forming beneath Jon's feet.</p><p>"I'm to understand you were Edmund Halley as well. What an incredible achievement!" Jon said, hoping sucking off Rayner's ego would get him to open up. "Have you been anyone else I might have heard of?"</p><p>Again, nothing! Jon thought back to Elias's advice: let your peep-your <em>cock</em> and ass do the talking. He arched his back, thrusting out the taut globes of his buttocks, then arched his balls to present his magnificent shaft.</p><p>Rayner, after looking over Jon's body critically, came forward again, stepping carefully to avoid the worst of the mud with his own bare feet, and pulled Jon's tennis jumper over his head. The handcuffs prevented him from stripping Jon completely, but he pushed the jumper as far down Jon's arms as he could, before stepping back and taking another look at him.</p><p>Jon's state of genital excitement was decreasing by the second. Was the man a mere voyeur? Or did he perhaps not find Jon attractive?</p><p>Rayner moved slowly around Jon, leaving him feeling like a weiner on a convenience store spinner; small and judged.</p><p>Jon spared a moment to think of his archival assistants and hope they were having more fun than he was. Then, his attention came back to Rayner as he did something astonishing. He squatted at Jon's feet and dipped his hands in the mud.</p><p>Jon blinked.</p><p>Rayner did not.</p><p>Rising, he began to draw symbols all over  Jon's skin with the nasty, degrading mud. Jon recognized individual symbols from multiple esoteric traditions, though the gestalt was beyond him. The symbol hung around Rayner's neck made several appearances.</p><p>Jon was growing impatient. He toyed with the idea of snagging his phone from his pocket and calling Sasha for an update on her explorations.</p><p>Rayner stopped drawing, then wiped his hands on the grass and circled Jon again, examining his handiwork.</p><p>
  <em>Is he finally going to fuck me?</em>
</p><p>Rayner finished his circuit to stand before Jon again. Then his blank white eyes rolled back in his head, his mouth fell open, and white smoke began pouring from his mouth. Rayner shivered and shocked as the smoke fell toward the ground in slow motion.</p><p>Jon rolled his eyes. <em>Well, at least someone's getting off.</em></p><p>The smoke crept slowly across the grass towards Jon. A shadow fell over the glade, and Jon looked up, expecting to see a cloud drifting across the sun. The sky was clear, though oddly dim, like someone had turned down the contrast on a computer screen. It was growing dimmer by the moment.</p><p>"Huh. Dimming the lights? I wouldn't have taken you for the bashful type."</p><p>Rayner continued silently quaking on the grass, so hard Jon thought it a wonder he hadn't fallen over. His generous package was jiggling and joggling inside his thong in the most diverting way.</p><p>The glade dimmed around them to near-dark, the tops of the hedge maze's walls barely visible against the sky. Soon, there was only Jon, the trellis he was fastened to, Rayner's pale, shaking body, and the stream of smoke reaching toward Jon's feet.</p><p>The anticipation was killing him!</p><p>Finally, four minutes after Rayner had begun, the stream of smoke touched the puddle of mud around Jon's feet. It instantly went as cold as the void between stars. It didn't hurt like the burn of frostbite, though. Instead, Jon felt first his feet and then his ankles begin to grow numb.</p><p>When the numbing smoke reached Jon's personal pelvis area and continued its slow climb up his body without either wrapping around his cock or dipping into his ass, Jon realized Rayner had ulterior motives.</p><p><em>Ah! Try and steal my body will you, you cheeky prick?</em> Jon smirked internally. Enough of waiting for the mountain to come to Mohammed, he decided. Clenching his cervix tight in preparation, he crouched, opened his mouth, and sucked Rayner's smoke in. The bottom of his face and his tongue went instantly numb.</p><p>Jon's delinquent boyhood served him well. He didn't need sensory feedback to know how to handle a mouth full of smoke; he had years of muscle memory working in his favor. Jon straightened up, tilted his head back and blew a series of perfect smoke rings that wobbled upward into the black void. He went back for another mouthful. This time, he directed the smoke out through his nostrils instead. Interesting! Black stars burst in front of his eyes, then cleared as he blew the smoke out.</p><p>As his vision came back, Jon noticed the Newtonian telescope in Rayner's thong, thrusting proudly through the stream of smoke running down his front. He was almost jealous he couldn't experience the erotic sensation of having his soul rolled around inside someone's mouth for himself.</p><p>Meanwhile, the leading edge of Rayner's smoke had finally managed to climb Jon's chest to his throat, leaving its freezing numbness in its wake.</p><p>"Eager for more?" Jon said with a flirtatious wink. "I used to be able to make Saturn back in sixth form." He puckered his lips and sucked more of the smoke in.  </p><p>Suddenly, the smoke surged into his mouth like Rayner had been sneakily saving his strength for this moment. Jon choked, and the smoke rushed up into his nasal passages. This time, unprepared, it blinded him completely. Jon's arms spasmed unconsciously, wanting to reach and claw at the smoke, but the handcuffs bit into his wrists. He could feel the numbness in his chest spreading toward his shoulders and down his arms. Rayner's smoke must be blanketing his skin as well.</p><p>Jon was numb and blind. He couldn't feel anything, not even the direction he was oriented. It was like he was just a nervous system cut off and floating in a void. Somewhere, his heart must be racing, but he couldn't feel it. He had to hope that his cervix was still locked down tight against the intrusion of Rayner's soul, but he couldn't feel that, either. <em>My word, it would be incredibly hot if he resensitized my cock right now and started wanking it,</em> Jon thought hopefully. But no touch came.</p><p>Was he still breathing? He couldn't feel his chest rising and falling. Was the blackness in front of his eyes the obliviating effect of Rayner's smoke or rising unconsciousness? Jon was too untethered from his senses to tell. Had Rayner already taken him over? Would he ever know the difference? </p><p>Was he already dead?</p><p>A bell rang somewhere far off.</p><p>Suddenly, sunlight and greenery, and the feel of the warm air on Jon's skin, the sprinkler still wetting his ankles, all came rushing back. Jon looked up just in time to see the last wisp of smoke whip back into Rayner's mouth.</p><p>This round of Elias's strange game must be over.</p><p>"Thank you for this edifying encounter," Rayner said at last. His voice was creaky as if he didn't use it often, Europeanly accented. "I would like to explore your beautiful body more deeply at some future time, my lovely Jon."</p><p>Jon couldn't make himself make any sort of agreement, so instead tried to pull his wince into a smile. How the hell had this charmless nerk managed to gather any sort of following?</p><p>Rayner disappeared from the glade, following the parcel string on to somewhere else. Another station?  He could follow it straight to hell for all Jon cared.</p><p>Now that he was gone, Jon could check up on his beloved archives. He hooked the leg of his folded shorts with his foot, and manuevered them carefully to where he could snag them with his fingers and grab his phone.</p><p>No missed calls or voicemails, Jon saw. Good. Sasha was being mindful that he'd not have his phone available much of the afternoon. He did have several messenger notifications though. </p><p>Jon opened the app, and a grisly photo filled the screen. He recoiled, nearly dropping the phone. Then he looked closer, paging up and down, scanning Sasha's messages for context for the horrible sight that had greeted him.</p><p>Sasha and Melanie had found a corpse.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Poor Jon is not having the sexy time he expected from this party. But at least he gets to see a corpse!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If any lines made you laugh, they were probably stolen from the inimitable Rocky Flintstone, of "My Dad Wrote a Porno" fame. Give it a listen if you want to learn more about sex, business, and the world of English cookware.</p><p>https://www.mydadwroteaporno.com/</p></blockquote></div></div>
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